


Satan and the Ice Man

by froggy (therealfroggy)



Category: Reaper (TV)
Genre: Food Sex, Ice Cream, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 01:12:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/froggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam tries to help his lover rediscover ice cream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Satan and the Ice Man

Sam swallowed nervously. The Devil was glaring at him; not a trace of the sleazy grin or the knowing but playful and evil at the same time smirk, on his face. He'd never seen the Devil like this; not since he'd let Sock keep the snow globe demon for a friend.

“What?” he asked timidly, glancing around to see if there was something coming to crush him. Like a bar or a couple of tables or something.

“I thought we were friends, Sam,” the Devil said, looking sullen now.

“What, friends? _I_ thought we were, uh, you fucking me,” Sam deadpanned.

That actually made the Devil quirk his lips a little, if not smile. “Well, regardless, I thought we had a good thing going here. Why are you trying to hurt my feelings, Sammy?”

Sam's mouth fell open. “I didn't... Since when do you have feelings, anyway?”

The waitress arrived with their banana splits, and the Devil waited until she left before answering.

“Ordering my favourite treat when you know I can't eat it? That's just cruelty. Not even Genghis Khan was that mean,” he said, looking a little hurt. He actually looked a little hurt.

Sam did a double-take. “No, no, that's not what I meant! I just want to try something; see here...”

And he scooped up a spoonful of the chocolate-smothered vanilla ice cream, holding his hand out to the Devil. “Don't touch it. Maybe it'll go in your mouth without melting or whatever.”

The Devil's eyebrows shot up. “You surprise me, Sammy.” But he eagerly leaned forward and opened his mouth.

As soon as the ice cream passed between the Devil's lips, it melted or disappeared; Sam couldn't see which. He sighed. So that was a no to ´Could the Devil eat ice cream if he didn't touch it with his hands?`

“You're cute, Sam, you really are. But He decided this long ago; He doesn't want me to have ice cream. Not that I wouldn't defy it if I could,” the Devil said sadly, looking with longing at the two desserts standing tauntingly between them.

Sam retracted the spoon. A small drop of melted ice cream fell off the edge of it and landed on his hand. He reached for the napkin when he felt the Devil's hand on his wrist.

“Let me get that for you,” the Devil said, grinning. He never missed an opportunity to get his hands, tongue or any other extremity on Sam. He lifted Sam's hand to his lips and licked, then froze. He licked again. And again.

“What?” Sam said, trying to pull his hand back. He felt kind of stupid, sitting there while the Devil was licking his hand.

“The taste,” the Devil said, sounding surprised. “I can taste the ice cream.”

Sam just stared. “Yeah?” He could, after all, taste the ice cream every time he ate it.

“Sammy, I haven't tasted ice cream since its invention in Heaven,” the Devil said, voice suddenly deep and sensuous. “And yet I can taste it on your hand.”

Sam sat up straighter. “A loophole,” he said, starting to grin. “God – sorry, He – didn't forbid you eat it; He just... I think you can only taste it ´outside` you. Uh, maybe He decided it should never pass your lips or something. As long as your tongue is outside your mouth...”

“I can still taste it, if not actually eat it,” the Devil finished, nodding. “You know what, Sammy, I think you have a point there. Let's try again.”

Sam, without thinking, put a smear of ice cream and chocolate sauce on the back of his hand, then extended it to his boss. The demon smirked, licked his lips, then leaned in and slowly placed his tongue against Sam's skin.

The tongue slid over his hand, making a broad swipe in the sweet and sticky mix on the reaper's hand. Sam held his breath as the tongue glided over his knuckles, down between his fingers, around to his wrist and back to the knuckles. He could feel it leave a hot trail, wet with saliva.

Sam had to admit he was starting to get hard.

“Exquisite,” the Devil muttered before going back to licking. Sam no longer cared about the people staring at them in outrage; he couldn't tear his eyes off the Devil's long tongue cleaning the ice cream off his skin.

“More?” Sam rasped as the demon licked off the last few traces of chocolate.

“More,” the Devil confirmed, sitting back in his chair. His eyes were glittering. “I can't eat it; it's gone before I can swallow it. But I can taste it. And I want more. But let's go somewhere more private, eh, Sammy? Your hand is a bit small for me to eat off it.”

Sam swallowed against his suddenly dry throat. He nodded. “I get the ice cream, you teleport us back to my room?”

The Devil laughed, rising from the table. “Sounds like a plan. It would probably melt down in Hell, anyway.”

Throwing a few dollar bills on the table for the ice cream, Sam rushed out of the bar, dragging a chuckling Devil behind him by the hand. He barely made time to stop at the counter of the nearest convenience store, turning to his boss.

“What flavour do you want?”

“Ooh, tough one,” the Devil said, but didn't even look at the selection before announcing, “Anything with heavy chunks of toffee or caramel.”

They were barely out of the store before Sam stumbled into his bedroom, almost falling at the surprise of being transported while in motion.

“You really should clean your room more often, Sam,” the Devil commented. “Sloth, you know.”

“Doesn't matter; no matter how many sins I don't commit, I'm still going to Hell,” Sam said, stripping off his shirt and t-shirt. “Spoons.”

He left the room, ran to the kitchenette and fetched a spoon, then returned at top speed. The Devil was slowly unbuttoning his suit jacket.

Sam stripped completely, then crawled onto the bed. “Where, um, do you want to eat from?” he said, suddenly realising how stupid that sounded.

The Devil obviously didn't mind. “Your chest,” he said, then undid his tie and rolled up his shirt sleeves.

Sam was on his back on the bed before the demon had time to say anything else, and the Devil quickly joined him, holding the ice cream in one hand and the spoon in another.

The reaper gasped at the cold feeling as a large blob of ice cream was dropped onto his chest. Then the Devil, on his hands and knees over Sam, smirked down at him and began licking.

If that wasn't hot, nothing was. The ice cream began running in little rivulets down Sam's ribs, and the Devil chased each one down with his tongue, practically moaning in delight as toffee and vanilla was wiped slowly off the young man's skin.

Sam was squirming.

The Devil was moaning without inhibition.

Over Sam's nipples, over his sternum, down to his navel and just over his hip bones. Ice cream was spread everywhere, and the reaper's nerve endings were soon crawling pleasantly under a slick trail of saliva. Then more ice cream was applied, following the path of the Devil's hot tongue, and he shivered.

“I'm going to have to fuck you now, Sam,” the Devil suddenly said, his tongue flicking off the last little drop of vanilla from Sam's nipple. “All this licking business, you know how it is.”

Sam nodded eagerly. “Yeah, I know how it is. Still on my back?”

The Devil grinned. “Yes. With more ice cream.”

They were both naked (the Devil probably teleported his clothes somewhere), Sam's legs were spread, and the Devil was between them. It took about half a second.

Eternally grateful and incredibly aroused by the fact that the Devil could have him lubed and ready with a snap of his fingers, Sam waited impatiently for the demon to press inside him. And the Devil paused only to deposit another scoop of ice cream on Sam's chest before doing just that.

With a happy sigh, Sam let Lucifer's name fly as he was filled. He moved his own hands out of the way, letting the Devil take the lead.

“Mm, Sammy, you sure taste good today,” he chuckled darkly, his tongue extending far too long out of his mouth to get at all the ice cream at once.

Sam purred in agreement and enjoyed the feeling of the Devil's cock inside him and the Devil's tongue on his chest. He lay there, arching into the demon's touch, and made encouraging noises until Lucifer – he loved calling him Lucifer – grazed his prostate hard and Sam groaned loudly.

“Open wide,” the Devil hissed, and Sam did as he was told. A large scoop of ice cream was dropped into his mouth, but he didn't swallow it. He waited for the Devil to kiss him, and when he did, Sam tasted the ice cream on both of their tongues.

“I can taste it in your mouth.” The Devil was panting and grinning, and kissed Sam again. “Oh, Sam, you taste like caramel ice cream. Literally.”

Sam whimpered in agreement and spread his legs a little wider. He was close; the impossibly hard cock inside him was driving him mad with hard jolts of pleasure. “Close,” he warned, hissing in delight when the Devil bit gently at his nipple.

“Then come,” the Devil tempted. He kissed Sam's neck this time, sucking on the skin and capturing it between his teeth. “Nothing but pleasure, Sammy; don't think of anything but me, fucking you hard.”

Their chests pressed together, and Sam gasped as he could feel the ice vanish from his chest in a wave of abrupt heat. The demon landed a well-placed bite on Sam's shoulder, and the reaper came, whimpering the name he knew the other liked hearing.

“Lucifer...”

And Lucifer growled, the beast shining through, and slammed his come into Sam six times (just for the heck of it) before lying down on him with heavy exhaustion.

“Oh, Sammy!” the Devil panted. He licked Sam's throat, once. “You certainly know how to exploit the loopholes.”

“Mm,” Sam answered tiredly, still heaving for breath. “Does this mean you owe me one?”

The Devil laughed. “For the sex? Not a chance in hell. For the ice cream, I'll give you anything. Anything you want, except the usual load of crap.”

Meaning Sam asking for his freedom or to get back with Andi. He'd never asked since they began their little relationship, not once, but the Prince of Darkness still felt it necessary to specify it.

Sam looked at his owner and smiled coyly. “Will you do that thing you do to fuck with me at work?”

Satan laughed heartily at that. He could make the reaper come in his pants without even touching him; it was all in the head. Oh, and the hormonal stimulation of the prostate gland, of course.

“For you, Sammy, anything. You just keep that in mind next time you're eating ice cream.”

Sam smiled. “Next time, I'm buying.”


End file.
